


Pet Names

by Jaydee_Faire



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Damen being a little shit, Fluff Fic, Gen, Jaydee's obsession with Isander, Language Barrier, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7096480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaydee_Faire/pseuds/Jaydee_Faire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damen whispers it into Laurent's ear when they're together: a word in Akielon that Laurent loves... until he learns what it means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pet Names

**Author's Note:**

> There was a particularly sappy Tumblr post about Damen having an Akielon pet name for Laurent, something sweet and loving and aww. I decided that wasn't how I wanted it to be. (I wasn't going to post this, it's messy, but it was weirdly popular on Tumblr.)

Damen was well aware the Laurent’s fluency of his language left much to be desired. He liked it better that way, liked the gentle flush of Laurent’s cheeks as he struggled to find words to match his feelings. (He also liked hearing Laurent say things like “I want to feel your hot body-sword inside me” but the last time he'd laughed, he’d spent the next four nights sleeping on a chaise lounge in the slave quarters.)

So Damen had taught Laurent a few choice words, for use in the bedroom, or whispered in his ear in a quiet moment together. _I want you. I need you. Your beauty astounds me. Your body captivates me. My love. My soul. My only._

And one other, murmured against the heat of Laurent’s skin, a shiver of a word. It made him smile. When Laurent asked what it meant, Damen only shook his head, pulling him in for another kiss.

 

“What?” Nikandros stared at him.

Laurent said the word again, getting the pronunciation as close as he could manage. “What does it mean?”

Nikandros’ eyes narrowed. “Who has said this to you?”

“No one,” Laurent said, though his eyes were warm with the obvious secret. “I heard it somewhere. I didn’t recognize it.”

Nikandros thought of Damen whispering this to Laurent in their times alone together. Then he thought about it again, because it pleased him. He looked forward to thinking of it often. “It means…” he paused, looking down at his feet. “Beg pardon. It’s difficult to translate. It is… two halves of a whole. Two sides of a coin. One cannot exist without the other. One is nothing without the other. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I think I do,” Laurent said, then drifted off, his expression serene, thoughtful. Nikandros waited for the man to get out of earshot before stuffing a corner of his chiton into his mouth to muffle himself.

 

In the evening, Laurent was at his desk, tolerating Isander’s groveling presence. Damen had developed a sort of platonic affection for him, which Laurent supposed he understood. In any case, the boy was good at reciting poetry and historical sagas, which Laurent found useful.

But the only sound for a long time had been the scratch of quill on paper as Laurent tried to untangle some political mess in the far North without actually having to go there. Isander shifted on the tile, lifting his head a little. “This slave must ask,” he said softly, shyly.

“If you feel you cannot hold it in, go ahead,” Laurent said dismissively, wiping ink off of his little finger.

“This slave is… envious. Of the relationship between your Majesty and Exalted.” Isander paused, obviously waiting to be chastised for his boldness, then went on. “As lovers. And equals. This slave would hardly be worthy of such a union. Easy, and comfortable. Jesting even in the most intimate of moments.”

Laurent turned slowly. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Isander smiled. “When he calls you ‘milk bottom,’ I mean.”

Laurent made no reply. For some time. Eventually, even Isander squirmed under that frigid blue gaze. Then there was a step in the doorway, and they both looked up to see Damen standing there, running a hand through unruly curls and grinning at them. “Are you reciting _Iliadus_ again? Because–”

“This slave is being called,” Isander blurted, scrambling for safety. “Forgive my unworthy departure–”

Later, Isander shyly offered Laurent advanced lessons in Akielon. Nikandros offered Damen a place to sleep that wasn’t full of a golden-haired expert swordsman. Laurent offered Damen an exhaustive list of places he could fuck off to. Damen offered his most sincere apologies, daily, for a month, and tried to learn to stifle his laughter.


End file.
